


Parents For a Day

by InterNutter



Series: When We Were Us [10]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Tear Jerker, baby twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12844962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: It's war. People die all the time. The twins have been unconcerned about that, until this night.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All right, my dearies. This is a sad one. Have your tissues. Also, important notes about the series at the end.

It was autumn, and it had followed a weak summer. They were going to have to chance entering a town again. The local caravans hadn’t wanted a matched set of scrawny vagabonds, no matter how good their cooking was. The travelling merchants certainly didn’t want two more mouths to feed.

The underground folk were currently xenophobic about Elves, and just wouldn’t let them into the caves, caverns, or mines. And their last attempt to sweet-talk a Dragon had… not ended well. Bugbears wanted to eat them. Humans wanted them as slaves. Dwarves just flat-out wanted to kill them. And the less said about Goblins and Orcs, the better.

But tonight, they had a fire, and just enough forage to make a stew for two.

Tomorrow, they would try their luck in a town. In a village. Farms could always use more farmhands. Inns could use more waitstaff, ostlers, or cooks. Lup had a decent singing voice and Taako could wrestle a tune or three out of a wooden flute. They could be bards for a spell.

If.

If the place wasn’t full of xenophobic dicks.

If someone was feeling charitable enough to take them in.

And there was always the old Honey Trap. Hustles. Roll people for whatever coin and valuables they had, and get their boots. Because shoes wore out eventually, and boots could be worn, traded, or if necessary, eaten.

But that was tomorrow. The twins rarely had a plan beyond ‘get what’s good’ followed by ‘get out’.

Koko almost missed the tiny voice saying, “May I share your fire?” He thought Lup’s pipe might be spiked with other weeds for a moment. Until he saw the twin red lights in the darkness.

Low to the ground. Half-hidden in the bushes.

Koko said, “Come into the light, friend.”

It was a kid. A Tiefling child. No more than four. Ragged and weary. Bruised. If Elves had it rough on the roads, then Tieflings got it worse. Their demonic origins were hard to hide. People always assumed that they were up to no good.

Well. Koko was not going to be that asshole. “Come and sit with me,” he said, opening his cloak. “You can share the fire and my stew.”

“Your  _ half _ of the stew,” corrected Lulu. “Koko, we can’t feed her, we can barely feed ourselves.”

“I’m not letting her go hungry. Look at her. She has no-one.”

“Like we’re any better?”

Koko snuggled the kid close and fed her from his bowl. A democratic half. Lulu glared at him the entire time and relented by the time  _ she _ had half a bowl. Sharing what was left with him.

“Do you have a name, pumpkin?” Lulu asked. “What do people call you?”

The kid thought about this. “Bitch?”

“Nope,” said Koko. “Not a name. Your name’s Daisy now.” He hugged her. Combed the knots and debris out of her hair. Told her some funny stories about how he and Lulu avoided some people who were out after Elf Ears for some dark magic spell.

The kid fell asleep in his lap.

Lulu switched to  _ Us _ . “[You know this can’t last. We can’t have a kid with us.]”

“[Relax. We’ll find some sad widow or a temple of the Mother and give her a better home. I know we’re too old, but she isn’t. She’s loveable.]”

“[Yeah, I can tell you fell in love.]”

Koko patted her hair. “[Nobody deserves what we’ve been though. You know that. Right?]”

Lulu lit her pipe. Took a drag and passed it. “[Yeah. I know. But I’m not drying your tears. Got it?]”

Puff. “[Sure. Whatev.]”


	2. Chapter 2

Lulu woke to a distinct absence of her brother and startled up in raw panic. He was on the other side of their little camp and digging a large hole. Snivelling. Trying not to cry and rolling ones the entire time.

And his spare shirt was draped over a frighteningly small body.

“Oh, Koko,” she cooed.

“I didn’t crush her. I was careful. I had her in my arms all night and…” broken noises of grief. “She just _died_ , Lu. For no reason. She died in my fucking arms. And I slept through it.”

Lulu had been lying when she told him she wasn’t going to dry his tears. She was at his side in seconds. Helping him dig. Wrapping the little body up in her spare dress and his spare shirt. Covering the shallow grave over with stones and carving a brief epitaph into the tree nearby. The tree whose roots would be her last cradle.

 _Daisy,_ they carved. _Our baby._

And propped each other up as they broke camp and walked away. They had done all they could do for her. And it wasn’t enough.

Lulu had thought that they were immune to the sight of death. They regularly scavenged whatever they could off of any dead they found at the roadsides. But today, she was weeping for a tiny little waif who’d never had a hope to begin with.

It hit her halfway to the nearest town.

This was the first dead person they _knew_ since they were twelve. The first one they cared about.

Koko was running through ‘at leasts’. The moments of slim benevolence to pluck out of the ashes of suck. “At least she had us,” he said.

“At least she got a last meal.”

“At least she wasn’t alone.”

“At least she wasn’t frightened.”

At least… she had had a scrap of comfort. A pocket of warmth. And someone who -if briefly- loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I want to thank each and every one of you who has read and commented on my fics. You guys are wonderful.
> 
> The important bit: I am still writing the next story, which is long and horrible and involves a racist trying to run a reform school in the very best of Victorian-era-style childrearing/education models. I have SOME chapters done, but it isn't done.
> 
> Now I've also got y'all expecting an instalment a day. My options are (a) wait and lose an audience or (b) post a chapter a day in this thing and hope for the best.
> 
> Which would you rather I do? Feel free to comment with your dearest desires.


End file.
